Father Of Mercies God Of Love O Hear A H
Father of mercies, God of love!
Oh! hear a humble suppliant’s cry:
Bend from thy lofty seat above,
Thy throne of glorious majesty:
O! deign to listen to my voice,
And bid this drooping heart rejoice.
I urge no merits of my own,
For I, alas! as all that’s vile:
No–when I bow before thy throne,
Dare to converse with God alone,
Thy name, blest Jesus, is my plea,
That dearest, sweetest name to me!
Within this heart of mine, I feel
The weight of sin’s oppressive load:
Oh! help! or else I sink to hell,
Crush’d by thine arm, avenging God!
Entomb’d within that dread abyss,
And exil’d from the realms of bliss!